


First Impressions

by Gilberrts



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Kinda, Urban Fantasy, just making this shit up as i go along, kagome is mostly the same but stabbier, kikyou is relevant but never meets inuyasha, may bump up the rating later
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-12
Updated: 2017-05-12
Packaged: 2018-10-31 02:39:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10889958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gilberrts/pseuds/Gilberrts
Summary: Kagome has a bad habit of becoming friends with people who try to kill her.





	1. A Very Romantic Fistfight

Kagome was maybe halfway home when she felt it. A demonic presence, only a few meters behind her. It didn't feel particularly strong, so whoever it was would probably be easy to take care of. It probably didn't matter anyway. There were plenty of demons in Tokyo that weren't after the jewel, after all. They were just living normal lives, disguising their true nature and blending in. It was probably just some random centuries-old demonic citizen of Tokyo walking home, right?

The wind picked up suddenly, whipping Kagome’s hair about her face and numbing her skin even more. It was late November, and the sun was setting then, at only five o’clock. Kagome pulled her long black coat tighter, feeling the cold biting at her through the rips and holes in the fabric. For the tenth time that day, she thought to herself that she really should get a better coat. She'd been telling herself that for the past three years. She really was a sentimentalist at heart, and she knew she would probably still be wearing this coat for the rest of her life, however long that was. It probably wasn't going to be that long, if she was being honest.

Several minutes later, she and the demon were the only people walking down the street. Behind her, she could hear the thud of their boots on the sidewalk. The steps had a pattern: they would get faster and faster, until the demon stopped for a second, then started again, deliberately slower. It was almost as if whoever it was had to force themselves to walk slow and keep their distance. Kagome reached into one of the many inside pockets she had sewn into the coat and wrapped her fingers around the grip of her handgun. She didn't know the make or model, only that it had been cheap, and that it always hit the mark.

Kagome tensed, preparing herself for a fight. She couldn't avoid confrontation any longer, no matter how tired she was.

When she turned around to face the demon, her hands were steady on the gun, and she finally took in her pursuer. It was a man, mostly human-looking. He wore only a red hoodie as protection from the burning cold. That stood out to Kagome, despite his other, more interesting features. Silver hair hung past his waist, as long as Kagome’s. Claws and fangs were also apparent, but most prominent were the fuzzy dog ears atop his head. As if sensing her gaze, they twitched. The cuteness of that was in complete contrast to the demon himself. He bared his teeth at her, lips curling into a snarl.

“Where's the jewel?” The low growl of his voice was obviously meant to intimidate, and Kagome had to admit that it was working, despite knowing that he was a lesser demon.

“Oh come on, do you really think I'm going to tell you just because you bare your teeth a bit?” She was afraid, no two ways about it, but she did resent him for assuming she was so cowardly as to turn over the jewel immediately.

“You would if you had any brains,” he said. His words were cocky, but he eyed the gun with something like nervousness.

“Who are you working for? Naraku?”

“Who the hell is that?” The demon’s speaking voice was so different from the growl he used earlier that it almost makes Kagome want to laugh.

“Sesshoumaru, then?” The demonic businessman had never directly gone after her, but some lesser demons had attempted to retrieve the jewel to get on his good side.

“As if I'd work for that bastard!” Kagome’s question seemed to have struck a nerve, unfortunately. The demon lunged forward at incredible speed, batting the gun out of her hands. He bore down on her, pinning her to the ground by her wrists. She hadn't even had time to take off the safety.

Kagome forced herself to stay calm. She'd been in worse situations before and stayed alive. She just needed to create an opening. All the same, her heart was beating like a jackhammer with no signs of slowing.

The demon looked her up and down and began to search her. He was so hesitant about it, only rifling through her coat pockets, and avoiding any contact with her body. It gave Kagome an idea.

“Hey! What are you, some kind of pervert?”

Kagome played the part of the scandalized woman perfectly, and it worked even better than she had hoped. His head whipped back up, his cheeks a flaming red. In his frustration and embarrassment he brought his face closer to hers as he began to shout.

“You know damn well that's not what I'm doing, bi-” Kagome’s forehead slammed into his nose, and she grimaced at the feel of soft cartilage and tissue giving way. She had funneled all her energy into the attack, and felt the pink lightning crackling between them. The demon had been stunned enough to loosen his grip on her wrists, and Kagome promptly rolled them over and pressed her glowing hand to his throat. As she straddled his chest, she felt a pang of disappointment and guilt. She always hated killing her enemies, even if they were the ones to attack her. It made her feel like she hadn't tried hard enough to de-escalate the situation, to use lethal force only as a last resort.

He hissed in pain and thrashed underneath her while the skin of his neck turned red and blistered. Kagome breathed through her mouth, trying to avoid the smell of cooking flesh. As the seconds stretched on, Kagome realized something was wrong. This kind of extended contact should have been enough to reduce a lesser demon like him to charcoal, but he was still very much alive. One hand wrapped around her forearm, the other clutched at her thigh. Both sets of claws pierced both clothing and flesh. Kagome decided that right then was a good time to panic. She needed a backup plan, immediately.

If normal purification wouldn't work, maybe she had something in her coat. She mentally ran through her inventory. She had holy water, iron, salt, but none would be more effective here. Suddenly she remembered Kaede’s gift. That could work, but she needed at least ten seconds and two free hands. She really hoped she could outrun him that long, but she was more than a little doubtful in her physical capabilities.

Screw it.

She socked the demon across the jaw and scrambled off of him, already yanking the beads out of her pocket. She broke into a sprint and began mumbling the incantation. She turned into an alleyway and hunkered down behind a dumpster. She forced herself to remain calm, the rosary wouldn't work if she stuttered or rushed.

In this part of town barely anyone passed by, which was a blessing and a curse in this situation. No one was there to distract the demon, but there was also nobody around to see Kagome pull a gun on someone in broad daylight. In her hands, the rosary began to separate and disappear, attaching itself to her attacker. All she needed was just a few more moments…

“Oi, bitch! Where do you think you're goin’?”

A long shadow was cast across the alley, two distinct triangular silhouettes atop its head. He sniffed the air, searching for her scent beyond the smell of trash. His footsteps grew closer as the beads disappeared, and Kagome found herself sweating despite the cold. Finally, the last bead disappeared, but Kagome’s relief was short-lived.

There was a loud metallic clang behind her, forcing her to let out a short scream of surprise. He had jumped up on the edge of the dumpster and loomed over her. He didn't seem to notice the beads about his throat, or didn't care.

“You're gonna pay for that,” he growled, gesturing to the angry red handprint burned into his throat. Kagome barely managed to scramble backwards to avoid the swipe of his claws. As it was, he gouged deep furrows in the ground, as of the pavement was nothing more than wet clay.

Kagome was backed against the brick wall, and found her jaw paralyzed with fear, if only for a moment. She needed to speak, to say something. Otherwise the beads were useless. Then her eyes flickered up to his ears.

“Sit!”

There was not even half a second for her to doubt the rosary before he was yanked down in a glow of pink light. Kagome edged her way past his prone body and out onto the street, breathing shakily. That had been much too close for comfort.

The demon was struggling to lift himself off the ground, but he was still staggering towards her.

“Fuckin-”

“Sit.” The demon face planted again, leaving Kagome free to retrieve her gun. When she turned around, the demon was rising once more.

“Fuckin’ bitch!”

“Let me guess. ‘Bitch’ is your favorite word, right?” Kagome had had a long day, and the name-calling was hardly helping her mood. He gave her a mean-looking grin.

“No, my favorite is cun-”

“Sit!”

Okay, so maybe that last time wasn't completely necessary. Kagome resolved to give the demon a chance to speak next time.

“What the hell did you do to me?”

“It’s called a subjugation rosary, and there's good news and bad news,” she said.

“What?” He all but roared out the question.

“Well, the rosary won't affect you at all unless you try to hurt me, that's the good news. All you need to do is give up on the jewel and you'll be home free. But…” She prepared herself for his rage. He hardly seemed like one to take bad news in stride.

“But what?”

“You will be wearing that rosary for the rest of your life. Sorry.”

“Like hell I will!” He reached to pull the necklace over his head.

“Wait! I don't think you should-”

Too late. The rosary sparked like an electric fence on steroids, forcing him to drop his hands.

“Look, I'm sorry you have to wear it, but I had two options: this, or stabbing you.”

“As if you could even give me a papercut,” he scoffed.

Kagome was no stranger to attempts on her life. Surprise fights to the death were no less common than accidentally bumping into people on the street. All the same, this guy really ticked her off, more than the others. Nevertheless, she extended a hand to help him up, only to hastily withdraw in order to avoid being spit on.

“So you're one of the sick fucks that keep demons as servants? As slaves?”

Kagome reared back, waving her hands in front of her. She had no idea people even still did that.

“No, don't get me wrong! I just want you to give up on the jewel and leave! I wouldn't do that to anyone!”

“You think I would give up on the jewel that easily?” His ever-present scowl twisted his features into something that looked almost feral. He looked guarded, like he was waiting to take the next blow.

“You should. It's out of your reach now. Whoever manages to steal the jewel will have to kill me first, and you can't do that.” She smiled, a mixture of apologetic, tired, and relieved. She started walking again.

“Trust me, you're better off without it.”

Kagome ignored the colorful and descriptive profanity hurled at her as she walked home.

Kagome’s little adventure left her walking home in the dark, with only every fifth streetlight in working order. The demonic aura followed her for about a block before moving away at a high speed.

Every step she took up the stairs to her third floor apartment sent throbs of pain through her body. When she finally pushed open her door, all she wanted to do was collapse on her mattress and be dead to the world for the next six hours. But she still had blood sluggishly oozing from ten separate puncture wounds, courtesy of the demon’s claws. She checked that all the wards she had placed were undisturbed before removing her coat (and all the weapons it held) and hanging it on the back of the door. She set her boots by the door. They were warm, sturdy, and like all other nice things she owned, a gift. Next order of business: assessing the damage to her clothing.

There were two new rips on the right sleeve of her flannel. Thankfully the shirt was already red. Her jeans had not fared as well. Five uniform holes decorated her jeans’ left thigh. Four in back, one in front. Kagome sighed heavily. Her budget was tight even at the best of times, with next to nothing set aside for buying new clothes. She had left home at fifteen as a competent seamstress, a skill that had been immeasurably useful in the coming years. Even so, clothes could only be mended so many times.

Kagome's tiny apartment was almost immaculate. She didn't have a lot of things to leave strewn about, and all sentimental items were kept on her person. Though the wards kept out most demons, her apartment had been broken into before.

Hers was an efficiency apartment, with absolutely no privacy. Her bed was on the far side of the the room, a stove and sink on the other side, along with a couple of cabinets. What little space remained was dominated by her “bookshelf”. Her setup consisted of cinderblocks and wood planks in a careful balancing act. The monstrosity stretched from floor to ceiling, was packed with books, and was held together through the power of gravity and prayer. Her book collection had been amassed through years of gifts, bargain basement deals, and sales. It spanned almost all fields of knowledge, from advanced trigonometry to marine biology. Kagome had no formal high school education, a deficiency she was forever trying to make up for through a self-imposed workload.

She stripped out of her clothes in the bathroom and examined her leg. None of the wounds were over a centimeter deep or needed stitches, so she opted to take a bath. As the steam curled around her, Kagome sunk into the bath and finally let some of her stress bleed out of her.

Half an hour later, Kagome emerged, bandaged and feeling considerably better than when she came home. Kagome was just pulling on sweatpants and a tank top when she noticed the demon’s presence again. If she had to guess, she would say he was on the roof of the neighboring building. Kagome didn't care, he wouldn't be able to come inside with anything less than a direct invitation to bypass the wards. Still, she thought of his thin sweatshirt and the cold November wind. Kagome had a moment of indecision as she recalled her earlier fight with the demon. But Kagome, despite all she had lived through, was not a cruel or cold person. If Kikyou could see her now, she would call it her greatest weakness.

She pulled the towel off of her head and walked over to the window, the curtains still drawn. She climbed out onto her fire escape just in time to see a red blur disappear over the edge of the rooftop opposite her. Her toes were numb against the metal platform, but she paused. She exhaled deeply, watching the fog form and spin away from her mouth.

“I know you're there,” she called out. It seemed as good a way as any to start their one-sided conversation. She willed her next words not to shake.

“Look, I'm sorry about earlier. If you're planning on sticking around here for a little bit, you could come inside, you know. It's a bit warmer, and I think I still have some ramen, if you'd like.”

There was no response, only the whistle of the wind in her ears. She waited for a moment, hoping he didn't plan on staying in the cold out of spite. A plane passed overhead, the only source of light in the starless sky. Eventually, her exposed skin became so cold it burned, and she was forced to go inside.

Unreasonably disappointed, Kagome went to boil water and pull out her last packet of instant ramen (pork flavor!). Just as she turned on the burner, she heard a sound from the fire escape. There was her enemy/houseguest, scowling.

“You'd better not be lying about the ramen.”

And that was how Kagome met her best friend.


	2. Inuyasha, Master of Stealth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inuyasha makes a bad second impression.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short Inuyasha pov to get us to the next chapter, where we see what Kagome does for a living, and face off against the villain of the week (guess who it is).

  
Inuyasha slurped down the ramen like a starving man. Which he was, he supposed. It tasted like a gourmet meal, despite being cheaper than dirt. He and the bitch sat across from each other on the floor. The bitch had a name, he remembered. Kagome.

She had offered it while handing him the bowl of noodles. Upon receiving no answer, she had only shrugged and picked a book out of her monstrosity of a collection. Inuyasha was making a point of ignoring her, but eventually the ramen ran out, and he had to face his hostess. She didn't look like a priestess guarding a powerful and ancient artifact. She looked more like a pretty teenager trying to teach herself French, from the looks of the textbook on her lap.

Inuyasha continued his appraisal of both the apartment and its owner. He sniffed the air. Her shampoo smelled like artificial strawberry, she used vanilla air freshener on her apartment, she had fresh wounds of some sort, but they had been recently disinfected. The ramen she had given him was pork flavored. The strangest thing was that she didn't smell like fear. He had nearly killed her less than an hour ago, but here she was inviting him into her home, without a trace of apprehension.

Truly, she must be an idiot.

“Why did you let me in?”

“It's cold out there,” she said. She didn't even look up from the text and her spiral notebook, which pissed Inuyasha off more than he'd like to admit. “And I didn't let you in. I invited you.”

“Why aren't you eating? Did you poison this?” It was probably a little late to be asking her if she did, the bowl was almost finished.

Finally, she looked up, offended.

“No. That's just the last package of ramen.” As if to punctuate that sentence, her stomach growled loudly. She turned back to the book, embarrassed.

“Oh.” Somewhat guiltily, Inuyasha drank the last of the broth. Inuyasha changed his mind. She was worse than an idiot. She was an altruistic idiot. He was at a loss for for words, until she took his bowl to the sink. She began to wash the the tiny pile of dishes that had accumulated. He noted that her soap was the generic brand, and smelled strongly of citrus. She hummed while she waited for the water to run hot.

“This might be a bit rude to ask, but I'm curious. Are you really a demon?”

Inuyasha stiffened. His half-breed nature had been a source of shame his entire life. Had the bitch really just brought him in to insult him? She continued on, oblivious to his discomfort.

“Your aura is demonic, but you resist purification, so I'm a bit confused about your nature. Are you a werewolf? I mean, I've never really seen werewolves in Japan, but it's not completely out of the realm of possibility. Maybe you're a skinwalker?” Ignoring his dumbfounded expression, she continued on.

“Anyways, I thought it would be better to ask than assume. They've got such a weird expression in America about assuming, but it always manages to stick in my head.” She said something in English that Inuyasha didn't understand and laughed to herself. He could feel his eye twitching. Did this priestess know anything?

“Are you telling me you don't know what you invited into your house?”

“No, I don't. But you're already inside, aren't you? I can't throw you out now, can I?” She shrugged and continued washing.

“Are you blind or are you just fuckin’ with me? I'm a hanyou, you dumbass.” He waited for disgust, anger, confusion. All he got was a look of pleasant surprise and a smile.

“Oh, that's pretty rare, isn't it? I've only ever met one other half-demon, but he lives way out of the city.”

“You know another hanyou?” This question only elicited another blinding yet sincere smile.

“Yeah, his name’s Jinenji, and he grows herbs for me.” She sighed, suddenly wistful. “It's been too long since I last visited, but I've been so busy lately, I can't get away. And he always needs help taking care of his mother. He never gets a break, but I haven't heard him complain once. That's just like him, isn't it? He doesn't have a selfish bone in his body.”

She continued on in this vein, talking mostly to herself while she dried dishes. Inuyasha hardly noticed, too busy trying to comprehend what she'd already said. Half-demons were known as disgusting evidence of the unholy joining of demon and human, and were reviled by both. Just what kind of priestess was Kagome?

She dried the last dish and turned around to him. She clapped her damp hands once, sending up a spray of soap bubbles.

“Alright, let's set up a bed for you. I know it's early, but I've been up for a while, and you look like you haven't been getting much sleep either.” With those words, Inuyasha realized how tired he was. When was the last time he'd slept? For that matter, when was the last time he ate anything as substantial as that ramen? She gave him the blanket and her only pillow as apology for him having to sleep on the floor, even after he told her that he slept sitting up. Soon after, she collapsed on her mattress and fell asleep almost immediately. Her quiet, steady breathing almost put Inuyasha to sleep too, but he dug his claws into his biceps and kept himself awake. He needed to search the apartment. He couldn't just fall asleep in unfamiliar territory.

Yet, he couldn't force himself to move from his spot, for reasons he couldn't quite discern. His limbs were heavy, unwilling to move. Maybe it was the food filling his belly, or the the warmth of the blanket that slowed his racing thoughts. Or perhaps it was the scent of vanilla and artificial strawberry that gently tugged him into sleep. All the same, he was out like a light.

So, it was barely seven o'clock on a Tuesday, and both Inuyasha and Kagome were already dead to the world. In Kagome's defense, her work hours were irregular at best, and so was her resulting sleep schedule.

At ten, Inuyasha woke with a start. He swiped at the drool at the corner of his mouth as he frantically recalled where he was. He didn't need as much sleep as a human, so he felt ready to take on a small army after just a few hours rest. Kagome had not moved at all. She remained curled into a ball in the exact center of her mattress on the floor. Looking at her ink black hair fanned out across the sheets and her tightly folded body, it occurred to him just how small she was. It was easy to forget the pink lightning and the burns she had given him when she looked like any other human: oblivious, soft, and so very easy to break.

After a moment’s hesitation, he draped his blanket over her, then began his sweep of the apartment. In the bathroom, he saw the bottle of strawberry shampoo, as expected. Her first aid kit was stowed under the sink. She was running out of both disinfectant and bandages. There was a spot of mold in one corner. Overall, it was disappointing. There was nothing hidden under inconspicuous loose tiles, nor was there a safe behind the mirror.

Kagome hadn't been lying about the ramen. Her kitchen was practically empty. He spared another look at the girl on the mattress. Her diet was probably another reason she was so small and twig like, he guessed. Again, he found no secret compartments, no deadly weapons, and no jewel. He was running out of places to look. Finally, he turned to the bookshelf. Maybe she'd hidden it inside a book? Or there might've been a hole in the wall behind it. However, properly dismantling it would be time consuming as well as difficult to do quietly. Still, this jewel was the key to achieving full demon status, and he'd be damned if he didn't look everywhere. He began to take books off the top shelf by the armful.

Unfortunately, the cell phone on the windowsill chose to ring just then. The electronic trill was shockingly loud in the silent apartment, startling Inuyasha into dropping his books.

“Shit,” he whispered. If she wasn't awake earlier, she was now.

Sure enough, she bolted upright and grabbed the phone. She answered, but not before giving Inuyasha and the mess of books an exasperated look, as if to say ‘ _really_?’.

He didn't answer the unspoken question, choosing instead to examine a copy of Machiavelli’s _The Prince_ that sat by his foot.


	3. An Employment Opportunity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kagome makes several questionable decisions in a row. It works out okay (mostly).

Before Kagome could say anything, a woman's panicked voice rang through the speakers.

“Are you Kaede’s friend? She said to call this number if anything I couldn't explain happened, but she didn't say anything else.” She sounded so desperate, Kagome could not help but feel nervous as well. She grabbed her coat and started lacing up her boots. She had a feeling this wasn't a problem she could leave until tomorrow morning.

“Yes, I'll help you. What happened?”

“It's my daughter. She collapsed, but her breathing and temperature are normal. I tried to wake her, but I can't move her body at all. It's like something's tying her down. And the closer I get to her, more cuts appear on my body, like there are hidden blades.” Her voice had become a harsh whisper as she went on, like she was worried someone would overhear.

“What's your address? I'll be there immediately.” The woman told her, and Kagome scrawled it on her arm in pen. Doing some calculations, she realized it was at least thirty minutes away, and cursed mentally.

“Please, hurry. She's all I have left.” The line went dead. Kagome finished double knotting her boots and glanced at the half demon that had been dismantling her book collection.

“Be careful. It'll hurt a lot if it falls on you.” With that, she turned and tried to close the door behind her. The operative word being tried. The demon that refused to share his name slid a clawed hand around the edge of it and stepped into the hall.

“Where the hell are you going?”

“Work.” She rushed down the stairs, but her guest followed.

“You're bluffing, right? Acting like you don't care. You're just trying to act like the jewel isn't in the apartment when it is.”

“I wonder where you were the day they were handing out brains,” she mused, pushing open the lobby door.

“Fuck you,” he muttered.

Abruptly, she turned to face him, forcing him to stop short or risk plowing her over.

“Why are you so certain the jewel is in Japan, let alone Tokyo? I could have left it under some rock in South Dakota, for all anyone knows. America’s a big place, it would be easier to hide there, wouldn't it?”

He stood still for a moment, looking absolutely horrified, but she gave him no chance to respond.

“Listen, Whatever-Your-Name-Is, I don't have time for this. There is a woman on the other side of town in pain because her daughter is being attacked by something terrifying she can't even understand, let alone do anything about. They're counting on me.” She stared into his yellow eyes, hoping to make him understand. Her breath fogged the air between them. Quietly, the demon took her left hand and pushed up the sleeve, revealing the smeared ink of the address.

“I can get you there faster.”

Kagome barely had time to process that statement before she was scooped up into long, wiry arms. He leapt from rooftop to rooftop with ease, though the method of travel was disorienting. It was a full minute before she could speak again.

“Thank you, whatever your name is,” she said, craning her head upwards to be heard over the wind. In response, he muttered something under his breath.

“What was that?”

“I said my name is Inuyasha,” he all but shouted, and Kagome could see his face was red with something other than windburn.

Inuyasha… He was a bit crass and undeniably violent, but when it came down to it, he wasn't all that bad.

They arrived at the apartment door minutes later. The woman who opened the door almost collapsed in relief at the sight of them. She was tall, disheveled and wearing her pajamas, but more alarmingly, she had straight, shallow cuts haphazardly scattered across her hands and face. Gently, Kagome stepped inside and slipped her arm around the woman’s shoulder, supporting her as they walked in. After a moment’s hesitation, Inuyasha followed.

“Where is she?”

The woman shook, holding back tears, but led her to a bedroom. The walls were white and covered with posters of bands and tv shows. A single desk lamp cast shadows across the prone body on the floor. Light glinted off of thin wires that crisscrossed the room, tied around furniture and the teenage girl's limbs. Her hair was dyed bubblegum pink, but her roots were noticeably growing in brown.

“What's your daughter’s name?” The woman jumped as if electrified, startled out of her worry.

“Y-yuka.”

Kagome hummed in response as she picked her way through the wires. It must have looked very silly to Inuyasha, unable to see why she was ducking and stepping high.

“That's a lovely name,” she murmured, then hissed as one of the wires she hadn't seen sliced into her cheek. That explained all the scratches on the woman's face.

Finally, she knelt by the girl's side. The girl's chest was rising and falling heavily, and a sheen of sweat showed on her forehead, but she seemed physically fine otherwise. Up close, Kagome could see that she wasn't bound by wire, but human hair, so black and shiny it was almost blue. All the strands leading away from Yuka’s limbs wrapped around her throat, then formed a thin braid stretched taut as it led out the open window. The demon responsible was outside, but Kagome had no idea why they were attacking and why they hadn't harmed Yuka yet. It didn't matter right then, in Kagome's mind. Yuka’s immediate safety came first. She slid her knife out of the sheath sewn into the coat, a rather unimpressive serrated blade with a spot of rust or two. She pulled her sleeve over her hand and steadied the main line. The blade was glowing pink with spiritual energy when Yuka jerked to the side. Kagome dropped the blade and rushed to check her breathing.

The girl was breathing no heavier than before, so Kagome tried to roll her onto her back. At the touch of her hand on her shoulder Yuka, or rather, Yuka's body moved explosively, swinging heavy scissors that had been hidden under her body towards Kagome's face. Only at the last moment did Kagome manage to grab her forearm, halting the scissors from gouging out her left eye. Kagome got a look at her face, shadowed by pastel hair. Yuka's eyes were closed, but her expression was twisted in a grimace, as if she were asleep and having a nightmare.

“Kagome!” She turned to see Inuyasha rushing into the room.

“Wait, don-” Protests died in her throat as the hair broke where he ran into it, oblivious to its presence. Another effect of his demon heritage, probably. Her distraction almost cost her life as she narrowly dodged the scissors suddenly embedded in the floorboards.

Inuyasha tackled Yuka back to the floor, her body heaving and jerking under him with strength not belonging to her. Kagome could already see her being pulled off the floor by the hair, seemingly floating on air.

“Don't hurt her, she's being controlled,” she warned.

Inuyasha gave her an irritated look, as if to say _oh, come on_.

“No shit! But what the hell else am I supposed to do?”

“You need to use your claws to cut the hair!” Inuyasha froze and glared at her, equal parts confused and pissed off. He was interrupted by Yuka attempting to retrieve the scissors, but the sentiment remained.

“How in the fresh hell is a haircut going to fix her?”

Despite the situation, Kagome couldn't help but roll her eyes. Inuyasha couldn't see the main line because he was, after all, half human. Doing some quick thinking, she wrapped the braid along her palms, ignoring the slick and painful slide of hair cutting into her flesh. Red liquid dripped down the line, making it visible.

“Cut where the blood is,” she said. Luckily, Inuyasha caught her meaning. With one swipe, both Yuka and the web of hair went slack. Inuyasha rolled off of her and onto his back, breathing heavily. The mother ran into the room and embraced her daughter, while Kagome used the hem of her tank top to staunch the flow of blood from her hand. In her opinion, it seemed an excessive amount of blood for a cut so minor. Remembering her supplies, she produced a rag from her coat. It was stained brown with blood despite many washes in bleach due to repeated usage. It certainly said something about the life Kagome led if she had a designated towel for soaking up blood in her pocket. Despite this preventive measure, her shirt was already so bloody she looked like an extra in a horror movie. It was a good thing she only ever wore it to bed.

Yuka's eyes snapped open and she took in a shuddering breath.

“What happened?” Looking around, she went pale at the sight of Kagome and her mother's blood.

“Did I do that?” She asked, sounding panicked by the mere prospect of it. Her mother stroked her sweaty hair, the tension slowly leaking out of them both.

“No, baby. Where did you get that idea?” Yuka relaxed slightly against her mother's shoulder, though she seemed unable to look away from Kagome.

“I dunno. I just had this horrible dream I couldn't control my body and…” She looked at Kagome, like she was searching for forgiveness. Her eyes slid over to the scissors, still stuck in the floor, and confirmed her suspicions. Her shoulders began to shake as she curled in on herself and away from her mother.

“I tried to kill you, in the dream. But it wasn't a dream, was it? I really did that.”

Tears spilled out of her dark eyes and collected along her jaw. Kagome felt her eyes prickle in response. She always was a sympathetic crier. She knelt close to Yuka, and tried to channel Mrs. Higurashi and be as reassuring as possible.

“Yuka, it wasn't your fault. You were attacked, but you and your mother are safe now,” she said. Inuyasha snorted derisively from across the room.

“Like hell they are. You didn't defeat the demon, and he could come back at any moment and slaughter them in their sleep.” Kagome fixed him with a glare sharper than any blade, enough to make even him fall silent.

“Sit.” Inuyasha didn't even have time to cuss her out before he was yanked downwards.

She turned back to Yuka, who was looking considerably more frightened.

“He's right. I need to find and take care of your attacker. If I don't come back in an hour, assume the worst and leave the apartment. Do you have a pen and paper?”

The mother retrieved some while Yuka just looked horrified. Kagome scribbled out a sutra, the characters glowing pink for half a second. She stuck it to the wall above the window and looked outside. The hair stretched across alleyways like a web, becoming denser around a building a block or two away. She turned around to look at her houseguest-turned-transportation.

“Inuyasha, could you please take me to the building over there? I think she's on the roof.”

“Oh, so now it's “please?”. I don't know if I can carry you with you fucking up my back like this.” She fixed him with another hard stare.

“Language, Inuyasha,” she warned, her eyes flicking over to Yuka. He groaned theatrically.

“Fine. Get on my back.” He knelt on one knee, impatient. Before Kagome could move, Yuka embraced her. She was half a head taller than Kagome, and she smelled of lavender and fear sweat, sour and thin. Kagome returned the hug, her arms curling around Yuka's shoulder blades.

“Thank you,” the girl mumbled over her shoulder. “I don't understand what's going on, but please, come back safe.”

When Kagome pulled back, Yuka would not meet her eyes, a visible flush on her cheeks. Kagome smiled and departed, at a loss for words.

Inuyasha jumped to the adjacent building’s fire escape and paused.

“Where to?” She pointed to the distant building, and Inuyasha dug his claws into concrete as he hauled them upwards.

“So,” he said, far too amused. “Looks like someone has a crush on you.”

Kagome scoffed, but she knew Inuyasha could feel the heat radiating off her burning face on his back.

“Well, it's not as if she was being particularly subtle, blushing and hanging all over you,” he snickered.

“It's… flattering, but she's a teenager, so it's a little uncomfortable.”

“What does that matter? Aren't you a teenager?” For this, Inuyasha received a sharp tug on his hair.

“I'm twenty-three!” He burst out laughing at that, only stopping after receiving no response. He stopped to stand on a lamppost without seeming to expend any effort at all.

“Wait, seriously? But you're so short, I thought you were like, seventeen, at most,” he said. He seemed genuinely confused, oddly enough. He glanced over his shoulder to meet her furious gaze.

“Just so you know, I hate you more now than when you were actively trying to kill me.”

“I wasn't trying to- nevermind.” They both continued silently for a moment, until Kagome noticed the web becoming denser. She patted his shoulder, getting him to stop.

“She's up on that rooftop, so just drop me there.” She pulled out her gun, wincing as the grip pushed into her cut palms.

“Wait, what do you mean, “drop you there”? You're not telling me to fight?”

“It's not exactly fair to ask someone to risk their life over something that's not even their responsibility, is it?”

When he spoke again, it was with an odd combination of awe and irritation.

“With that kind of attitude, and you being as weak as you are, it's a goddamned miracle you're still alive.” With that, he leapt onto the roof of the apartment building. Kagome could still see some lit windows, and wondered if any occupants had noticed them.

Inuyasha landed softly on one foot, barely making a sound, then promptly dumped Kagome on her backside. She scrambled to her feet and took in the otherworldly sight.

The web of blue black strands stretched all around them, spreading out from the enormous ball of hair floating above the ground as it slowly spun. It was constantly shifting and turning, revealing human skulls woven into it, hair threaded through the eye sockets and tied around jaws. Kagome felt her empty stomach turn at the sight.

Balancing on a wire high above, there was a naked woman. Well, she wasn't completely naked, although she was barefoot. She wore a dark red dress, so dark it was only a shade off of black, that was lacking both sleeves and a back, in addition to being low cut and short. With the wind blowing so harshly, it didn't look like it offered much more protection than being naked. Just looking at that outfit made Kagome cold.

The woman began to hop from wire to wire, gracefully coming closer to Kagome. She lifted her gun in warning, being sure to remove the safety. The woman stopped and leaned forward, regarding her with those dark red eyes. Her painted lips fell open in an exaggerated gasp of surprise.

“Kikyou, you're looking very… alive.”

Kagome said nothing, meeting her gaze with the barrel of her gun. The demon pouted at that.

“Oh, come on. Don't you remember me? Yura of the Demon Hair? No? Well, no matter.”

“Why did you attack the girl?”

“Oh, you know, don't you? The girl was nothing but bait. I lost to you once before, so I figured I would lure you out and defeat your successor for the jewel, but lo and behold, you don't have one. It makes me wonder. Eight years ago, how did you escape Naraku, Kikyou? He said he killed you with his own hands.” Kagome swallowed thickly.

“She didn't escape him, but she did pass on the jewel,” she said, barely loud enough to be heard.

A beat passed, before Yura doubled over in laughter, clutching at wires to remain upright. Eventually, she straightened and wiped at an imaginary tear.

“So you're just Kikyou’s replacement? I feel a bit silly now, for not seeing the difference. Your faces are completely identical, but you two really don't look anything alike. Even when I almost decapitated her, there was nothing behind her eyes, you know. Not a hint of fear, or any emotion at all, really. Just a smooth, blank expression, like fighting the fucking Terminator. But you, every emotion is shown on your face, in the wrinkle of your brow and the corner of your mouth. You're terrified- and sad, too.”

Kagome squeezed the trigger; she had enough of listening to introductions and reopening old wounds. The bullet blazed a pink trail through the the air, though Yura did nothing to evade it. It punched a neat hole through the center of her sternum. No blood poured out; the only acknowledgment of the wound she gave was a disinterested look downwards. Her lazy smirk grew into a grin, showing needle-like teeth.

“If that's the best you have to offer, then you really are nothing like Kikyou.” Too late, she realized that Yura’s life must be tied to a physical object, not her body.

Thick strands of hair surged towards Kagome, wrapping around her throat before she could raise a barrier. The wire cut deep into her flesh, more painful than any other injury she'd received in the past six hours. She brought her knife up and tried to free herself, but she could feel her limbs growing heavy and her vision blurring from lack of oxygen. Despite her determination to protect Yuka and the jewel, Kagome knew this could very well be the end of her. Dimly, she tried formulate some sort of plan, but her thoughts kept trailing off, scattering before they could become even somewhat coherent, derailed by the dark spots dancing in her eyes. The artifact must've been close by, for Yura to be this powerful. But where?

She didn't have time to contemplate her mortality anymore before the wires slackened and dropped her on the roof. She blinked, not believing the scene before her. Inuyasha had severed the hairs and crouched in front of her. It was amazing in and of itself that he hadn't left, let alone saved her life. Yura looked surprised as well, if only for a moment.

“You're Inutaisho’s bastard hanyou, right? Nice jewelry you have there.” She gestured to the subjugation rosary with a knowing smirk. “Guess that's why you're stuck ferrying around some weakling priestess like that,” Yura mused.

Inuyasha growled in response, the noise rumbling from somewhere deep in his chest.

“You don't know shit!” He lunged into the air, only to be caught by ropes of hair about his limbs. Yura hopped down a bit to get closer to her captive. She gently took a handful of his knotted hair, running her fingers through it.

“I am glad you're here, though. I not only get the jewel, but such unique silver hair, too. It's a shame you take such bad care of it. All these split ends, I-”

Having heard quite enough of that, Inuyasha snapped the hair on his right hand with a yank and sent his fist through her chest, cutting her off. It poked out her back, unnaturally free of gore. Yura looked a bit more surprised at that, though Kagome knew it had not harmed her. However, it did give her a clue.

The nest overhead ceased to spin, as if frozen in shock. On the surface was a strange thing. A blood red skull, different from all the others tied in. It wasn't a guaranteed solution, but she had no other leads. She sprinted underneath the nest while Yura was distracted and drew her knife once more.

“Don't you know it's impolite to touch a woman's chest so soon after you've met?” Yura seized Inuyasha’s wrist and twisted hard. His eyes widened at her nonchalant response and he tried and failed to remove his hand from her torso, caught by the awkward angle of his wrist. Yura stretched out her hand behind her. From the nest, a sword flew into her hand. She stabbed it into his back just as he yanked his hand free with a wet, sucking noise. A choked sound was forced from his throat as he was unceremoniously dumped on the ground.

Kagome didn't watch any further before digging the blade into the meat of her shoulder with a pained whimper. She held the dripping knife in front of her with two hands as if it were a broadsword. She'd found out through trial and error that it was the best way to brace against the kickback that came with the technique.

“Blade of Blood!”

Yura turned in time to see the the glow of red energy slicing through the nest. She raced over before the hair could even fall, fire billowing from her fingertips. Kagome let her knees buckle just as the heat engulfed her. The hair landed around her with heavy thuds, but she didn't let herself react. The barely visible energy barrier crackled just centimeters above her skin, the only thing separating her from a fiery death. She just needed to play dead until Yura turned away and destroy the skull. But there was a glaring flaw in her plan. How could she shift the demon’s focus?

“You shouldn't have turned your back, fuckface!”

Kagome glanced up to see Inuyasha bring the sword down on Yura’s shoulder, severing her left arm. She yelled in surprise, cut off when a punch to the face sent her flying to the ground. Kagome's first thought was not of the opening he had provided, but being absurdly relieved that he was still alive. She scrambled to her feet and scanned the roof for the artifact.

A few meters away, Inuyasha stared down the demon. Yura retrieved her arm from the ground and was immediately surrounded by a cocoon of hair. When the strands parted, Yura was whole again.

“You shouldn't have done that, half-breed.”

Her voice had lost its mocking tone, replaced by a cold fury. Her ropes trapped him again, but she did not pause to examine his hair, instead looping invisible strands around his throat with the intent to decapitate.

Kagome fell to her knees in front of the unearthed skull and raised her knife. But her arms were weak, her body was damaged, and she barely chipped the skull.

As if she could feel the blow, Yura spun around in horror. For a fraction of a second her eyes met Kagome's as she raised the knife once more.

“No,” whispered Yura. She knew this was the end of her immeasurably long and powerful life. All those years of immortality had made her careless, and this was the inevitable result. She stretched one hand towards Kagome, knowing she would never reach her.

The skull shattered in a blaze of light that blinded Kagome, Inuyasha, and anyone who happened to look at the building. Yura and her hair crumbled into the wind, leaving behind only human skulls and a fine layer of dust.

Inuyasha struggled to his feet and stared down at Kagome for a long moment. He didn't seem to notice the hole in his chest, and the look in his eyes was unreadable. A thanks sat on the tip of her tongue, but she waited to hear him speak.

“What the fuck is your deal?”

“Wow. I was going to thank you, but now I'm not so sure I want to!” He groaned in frustration, throwing his head back.

“You know that's not what I meant! I meant how did you end up like…” he gestured to her vaguely.

“Like what?” She tilted her head, glaring at him.

“Look, you said that this Kikyou person gave you the jewel eight years ago, when you were fifteen fuckin’ years old. First off, what kind of asshole gives the motherfuckin’ Shikon Jewel to a high school first year? Secondly, why the hell does a holy priestess like you know blood magic?”

Kagome took a deep breath to calm her nerves. When she spoke again, her voice was as cold and unyielding as steel.

“You don't know _anything_ about Kikyou or why she gave me the jewel.” The sudden shift from her angry but exuberant demeanor gave Inuyasha whiplash. Then just as suddenly as the shadow came over her face, it was gone.

“To answer your other question, that wasn't blood magic.” She sneezed as what remained of Yura floated in her nose, then made a face of disgust.

“I'll explain on the way to Yuka's. She and her mother are probably terrified right now.” She brushed past him to the roof access door. Her lock pick kit was sewn into the hem of her coat.

“What are you doing that for? We can just go back the way we came.”

“Are you kidding? You have a hole in your chest, I'm not having you carry me.” She sank to her knees and got to work on the lock.

“This is nothing. It's not like I've got a fragile human body,” he scoffed.

“Still, that's no reason to hurt yourself further.” The door swung open, and Kagome spread her arms. “Ta-da!”

“Stop acting like the pinnacle of self care, you literally stabbed yourself less than ten minutes ago, you hypocritical bitch,” he muttered. Kagome shushed him and stepped down the stairs. She shut the door, leaving two hundred and thirty seven human skulls on the roof, picked free of all flesh. The only clues anyone would ever find to their origin would be the same set of fingerprints left on every single one, belonging to a popular hair dresser that went missing the same time the skulls were found.

As soon as they stepped out onto the street Inuyasha began his tirade anew.

“Well, if it wasn't blood magic, what do you call slicing open a demon’s nest with your own blood?”

She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “How do I put this so that you would understand?”

“I’m not a child, so don't be so damn condescending.”

“I've got it! So you remember when I burned you earlier, right?” She held up a glowing pink hand, making Inuyasha unconsciously retreat a few steps as he nodded.

“That was my spiritual energy trying to purify the demon in you. I can manipulate that same energy to not only flow out of my body, but into physical objects. I started out with shooting holy arrows, but the same principle applies to bullets, brass knuckles, and blood. Truth be told, I don't use blood for any spiritual reasons.”

“Why, then? Do you just like stabbing yourself?” He asked sarcastically, but a part of him was worried that was the case. After all, Kagome had done absolutely nothing to indicate that she valued her health and safety.

“Nothing like that. It's just that water doesn't have the right viscosity for using with a blade, and blood is always available.”

“You have to realize it doesn't sound any less fucked up when you put it like that,” he said. Kagome shrugged, then immediately hissed in pain at the sting in her shoulder.

Somehow, they had gotten closer together as they moved, walking almost shoulder-to-shoulder. Well, more like shoulder-to-elbow. Kagome didn't move away, amazed at how Inuyasha’s left side put out heat like a furnace. They continued on, lulled into silence by the repetitive motions of their feet.

“Hey, Inuyasha.”

“Yeah?”

“Why didn't you leave me alone with Yura to die? I hurt you earlier, I used the subjugation beads on you. You had no reason to help me.” He scoffed, which seemed to be a form of punctuation for him.

“There's no way I'm letting some high and mighty demon douchebag get the jewel before me,” he explained. Inuyasha was quite proud of this half-truth . It was very convincing, if he did say so himself. In all honesty, he didn't know why he had fought with Kagome. After all, he hadn't even known her for a whole day, and he'd spent that entire time pissed off at her. If Kagome picked up on this, she didn't say anything. Inuyasha noticed that she was purposefully avoiding cracks in the sidewalk.

“Inuyasha, what are you going to do next?” Her voice was soft in the frozen air. A car passed by, its headlights making their shadows stretch long across the concrete.

“I dunno. Why the hell do you care?”

“Well, I was going to offer you a job.”

Inuyasha froze, staring at Kagome with his mouth agape. A few awkward moments passed before she broke the silence.

“So...is that a yes, or what?” That made him snap his jaw shut and rejoin the conversation.

“I don't even know what it is that you do and you're asking me to work for you?”

“It's pretty much what just happened. I work with spirits and demons.” She paused, debating internally how much information to give. “And sometimes other stuff, but usually just those two,” she added, making a vague hand gesture.

“So, you're a demon slayer?”

“That's not what I said at all! Most of the time, people pay me to lift curses and resolve conflicts peacefully. Occasionally demons and spirits get violent, and I fight, but it's a last resort.”

“And you want me to help fight?”

She shrugged and nodded. That was only half her reasoning. Though she would never tell him, she felt sorry for Inuyasha.

“You get half of all profits, plus you can stay at my apartment for as long as you need. Do we have a deal?” She stuck out her hand, her bloody face beaming.

Inuyasha hesitated for an unnecessarily long time before shaking her hand. He didn't want to seem too eager, after all. He grimaced at the tackiness of drying blood on her palms. She gave him another blinding smile and resumed walking. He stared after her, confused by his employer/benefactor/charge. He had known her for less than twelve hours, and he was already certain that she was the weirdest fucking person he had ever met. He rubbed the beads hanging from his throat and wondered, not for the first time, what exactly he'd gotten himself into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yet another short fic I plan to expand into a series. Why am I like this.

**Author's Note:**

> There is a particular brand of terror that comes with writing a multichapter.


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